


Even the Wrong Words Seem to Rhyme

by Paraprosdokia (ChangeableConsistency)



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: BDSM, Dom Leonard Snart, Dom Mick Rory, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, M/M, Praise Kink, Sub Barry Allen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:48:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28465578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangeableConsistency/pseuds/Paraprosdokia
Summary: Barry doesn’t want to want this.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Mick Rory/Leonard Snart
Comments: 7
Kudos: 54
Collections: fandomtrees





	Even the Wrong Words Seem to Rhyme

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sandrine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/gifts).



> This is my first time writing in this fandom, I apologize for any inconsistencies and hope the gratuitous amount of porn makes up for it.

“You don’t have to do this. Let me go,” Barry says, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice, knowing he’s failed by the look on Len’s face.

“Have to?” Len smiles. It isn’t a pleasant smile, “No. Want to?” The smile darkens further, “And you want this, too.”

Barry shivers, and tries to tell himself it's because he’s cold and not because Len is right. He tries once again to vibrate through the metacuffs locking his wrists together and closes his eyes, feeling defeated when it doesn’t work.

“Enough foreplay,” Mick growls out, as naked as Barry but otherwise his complete opposite, big and dark and powerful.

Barry shivers again. 

Mick pulls Barry up by the wrists from where he had been kneeling and kisses him, hard and merciless. Barry fights him like a wet cat until he feels Len up behind him, always so cool next to Mick’s heat; he kisses the back of Barry’s neck and the contrast of brute force and gentle teasing undoes him for a moment and he melts into them.

Barry loses track of time as Mick plunders his mouth and Len teases him, his soft kisses paired with soothing strokes down his sides, right until he feels two of Len’s long fingers breech him and he moans shaking his head no and pulling away from Mick’s mouth, “Please, please Sir, don’t. I’ll be good, I’ll— let me use my mouth instead, you love my mouth, you—.”

“Quiet,” Mick orders, “No more talking outta you.”

Barry whimpers and turns his pleading eyes to Len over his shoulder, hopeful but unsurprised when Len just appraised him coolly and says, “You heard the man,” he says adding a finger and making Barry grunt as Len spreads his fingers, stretching him, “Though I do like those sweet sounds you make,” he presses a kiss to Barry’s pouting lip, “So be a good boy and moan for me,” he adds the fourth finger too soon and Barry couldn’t hold back his moan if he wanted to, which he does, not wanting to give Mick or Len the satisfaction of knowing how turned on he really is, despite his best efforts. 

Not that his traitorous cock is any help, hard and dripping where it presses against Mick’s leg, and he drops his head in shame. 

“There you are, pretty boy, just like that. Show us how much you love this, how much you need this,” he makes Barry moan again, “You should say, ‘Thank you’.”

Barry looks up fearfully at Mick; they love giving him contradictory orders, watching as he has to decide who he wants punishment from, who he wants to praise him, but though there’s a struggle in him— Mick likes to _hurt_ him and Barry doesn’t like pain, or at least that’s what he tells himself; in the end it doesn’t matter. Out of the two of them Len is really the one in charge, the one always in charge when they do this. 

“Thank you, Sir,” he whispers, then shouts as Mick twists his nipple with enough force that Barry knows it’s bruised and part of him wishes the bruise would last, that he would have it to press into, over the next few days.

“I said _quiet,”_ Mick says at the same time Len drawls, “Good boy,” and Barry whimpers.

“I think he’s ready for you, Mick.”

“Legs up, Red,” Mick says, slapping Barry’s thigh.

Barry shakes his head ‘no’.

“Barry,” Len’s cool, controlled voice washes over Barry, his warning clear, and he reluctantly lifts his legs and wraps them around Mick’s densely muscled waist.

Barry’s grateful when it’s Len who guides Mick’s cock into him, as big as the rest of him; left to his own devices Mick usually enters him like a battering ram.

Len knows what he’s about and he’s stretched Barry enough that he takes Mick’s thick cock easily and he moans in pleasure despite himself.

“Good boy, Red; see how good you can be for us when you want to be,” Barry moans again and starts lifting himself by his arms still held over his head by one of Mick’s strong hands, riding Mick’s cock and Len repeats, “ _Good boy.”_

Len lets them fuck for a bit, raining praise over Barry as he resists speeding up, of trying to make Mick come before what comes next; Mick rewards him by letting Barry’s arms down around his neck, allowing Barry to get more leverage and freeing both of his warm hands to grab Barry’s ass, helping him up and down while spreading him apart. 

“So good for us, Red,” Len purrs into Barry’s ear and he pushes a finger up into Barry next to Mick’s cock and it’s Mick's turn to moan. 

“Hurry up, Lenny.”

“What’s the matter, Mick, can’t take the heat?”

Mick just growls and glares over Barry’s shoulder. 

Len laughs like the clink of ice in a glass of scotch, smokey and hard at the same time, adding two more fingers and bringing tears to Barry’s eyes, “ _Please.”_

Mick punishes Barry for the slip, biting his lip just to this side of drawing blood.

Len presses on Barry’s shoulder and tells him, “Hold still, sweetheart,” seating him fully on Mick’s cock and then the slick tip of his cock is slowly pushing into Barry next to Mick and it’s too much.

“Wait! Please, Sir, please stop—.”

Mick snarls, letting go of Barry’s ass, grabbing Len’s hips and dragging him all the way into Barry, his mouth covering Barry’s and swallowing his scream.

They fuck him hard and fast until he’s ready to come apart in their arms and Len says, “Vibrate for us, Red. You know what we want.”

Barry tries to shake his head no, but Len is there, snarling into Barry’s ear, “ _Now_ , Barry.”

Unable to resist Len’s command he vibrates at that just right frequency, sobbing as the thick steel of their cocks feels like they’re tearing him apart and he feels them flood his ass with their come at the same time and he’s coming and coming and coming.

The next thing Barry is aware of is laying in bed on top of Mick’s warmth, Len cleaning him up with a cool washcloth and then settling in next to him. 

Barry promises himself this is the last time, then smiles, too fucked out to believe his own lies. 

Len kisses Barry’s shoulder and pulls the blanket up over them as they cuddle together, and all three drift off to sleep. 


End file.
